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all their revelations and tendencies, and filled the mind of Claudia
with astonishment and consternation! That Ishmael Worth should be
capable of loving her, seemed to Miss Merlin as miraculous as it would
be for Fido to be capable of talking to her! And in the wonder of the
affair she almost lost sight of its presumption!

But how should she deal with this presuming peasant boy, who had dared
to love her, to risk his life to save hers, and to let the secret of his
love escape him?

For a long time Claudia could not satisfactorily answer this question,
and this was what kept her awake all night. To neglect him, or to treat
him with marked coldness, would be a cruel return for the sacrifice he
had rendered her; it would be besides making the affair of too much
importance; and finally, it would be "against the grain" of Claudia's
own heart; for in a queenly way she loved this Ishmael very dearly
indeed; much more dearly than she loved Fido, or any four-footed pet she
possessed; and if he had happened to have been killed in her service,
Claudia would have abandoned herself to grief for weeks afterwards, and
she would have had a headstone recording his heroism placed over his
grave.

After wearying herself out with conjectures as to what would be the
becoming line of conduct in a young princess who should discover that a
brave peasant had fallen in love with her, Claudia at length determined
to ignore the fact that had come to her knowledge and act just as if she
had never discovered or even suspected its existence.

"My dignity cannot suffer from his presumptuous folly, so long as I do
not permit him to see that I know it; and as for the rest, this love may
do his character good; may elevate it!" And having laid this balm to her
wounded pride, Claudia closed her eyes.

So near sunrise was it when Miss Merlin dropped off that, once asleep,
she continued to sleep on until late in the day.

Meanwhile all the rest of the family were up and astir. The doctor came
early and went in to see his patient. The judge breakfasted alone, and
then joined the doctor in the sick-room. Ishmael was awake, but pale,
languid, and suffering. The doctor was seated beside him. He had just
finished dressing his wounds, and had ordered some light nourishment,
which old Katie had left the room to bring.

"How is your patient getting along, doctor?" inquired the judge.

"Oh, he is doing very well--very well indeed," replied the doctor,
pu